


The Anthology Season

by AmateurScribes



Series: The Second League of Heroes [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Tiger & Bunny Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Caboose, Canon-Typical Violence, Chapter 1:, Chapter 2:, F/M, Falling In Love, Minor Character Death, Orphans, Possibly Unrequited Love, References to Depression, Robbery, Teenage Drama, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2020-07-08 05:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19864069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmateurScribes/pseuds/AmateurScribes
Summary: The city of Blood Gulch is fraught with dangers that the newly promoted Second League will have to face head-on to protect their city- and, earn some points!But sometimes these threats hit close to home then some of the heroes would like.





	1. Unrequited Requited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caboose finds a love that's like a flame- beautiful, bright, and lights up his whole day.
> 
> But flames die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! I finally got around to making the next installment of my T&B AU! I'm going to be working on this between updating Pyrrhic and the like, but I have everything planned for this fic. This is meant to be individual stories to showcase each of the heroes, barring Tucker and Carolina. So, uh, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Blah blah blah, no Beta, convenient excuse, and as such all mistakes are my own!

It turns out, when you're the first hero to make the first arrest of a new season, it makes you pretty popular.

Caboose hadn't even been thinking about any of this when he took down the Zealot, he was mainly focused on removing the danger that the man presented to his nephew. His call for friends rarely ever gets ignored, which was good for him since he really doubted that he'd be able to take out the criminal oh his lonesome.

But he had still made the first arrest, and that's the only reason why he was sitting in a plush lounge chair sitting across from a smiling and neatly dressed Jax Jonez, ready to give the first out of many interviews. 

There was a live audience looking at them from their seats, and Caboose wanted to wave at them from his seat, but Miss Andrews made it very clear to him that he wasn't really supposed to interact with them, so he kept his hands against the arms of the chair.

His suit was scratchy and uncomfortable, but he was happy that he got to choose the color because the deep cobalt color was dazzling in his opinion. Rarely did he get a chance to dress up like this, but the fact that he had to keep his face mask and visor on for identities sake almost ruined the whole ensemble.

It would've made more sense for him to keep his armor on, but Miss Andrews had been adamant that that wasn't necessary.

Getting the go-ahead that they were about to go live, Jax nodded at the crew member and turned his attention to the cameras, waiting a few seconds until a green light lit before letting a smile graced his face broadly as he announced, "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to what is going to be an absolute pleasure! Today, FreelancerTV has been graced with the presence of our very own hero, Snow White!"

The audience cheered loudly, and figuring that it'd be ok to do so, Caboose gave a quick and joyful wave of his own towards the camera.

"Now, I'm sure everyone is dying to know more about you," Jax leaned firmly against his desk. "After all! Our introduction ceremony was cut short- by a villain no less. How'd you feel about that?"

The question wasn't even surprising to Caboose. Miss Andrews had shown him all the questions beforehand, so he's had a lot of time to think about his own answers.

With ease, he responded, "Well, I was very upset because that villain was making a really big mess, and I had a feeling that he wasn't going to clean it up, which you probably know is not a very nice thing to do."

The small number of people in the crowd laugh a tad, and Caboose swallowed harshly because he was not exactly sure what part of his answer was very funny, but not wanting to be the only one not laughing in the room, he gave out a few chuckles of his own.

"Well, you sure cleaned up his act!" Jax exclaimed brightly. "I hope you don't mind us replaying a clip of your takedown of this criminal."

Tilting his head, he didn't get a chance to respond before a monitor was showing a recording of him summoning all his friends to intimidate the villain into letting his guard down. With a swift knock against the Zealot's head, the man was rendered unconscious. 

"Amazing, am I right?" Jax brightly said, looking and gesturing towards the crowd both present and not. "How'd you do that anyway? Did you know that there were rats in the area?"

Relaxing at the question, and happy that he could talk about his friends, Caboose answered, "Ah, well, no. But when I go all blue, if I think really hard and ask for help, a bunch of my friends come to help me and they're just the best."

"Even rats?" Jax asked, before shivering and exaggerating the motion. "I can't even begin to imagine how you managed to stay calm at the sight of a swarm of rats rushing towards you, I don't think I'd be able to do the same!"

The audience laughed again, but all Caboose did was frown, but the cameras wouldn't be able to see it behind his mask.

Clearing his throat, he tilted his head up to haughtily say, "Well, rats and all animals are my friends so it was very easy to remain calm."

"All animals, you say?" Jax latched onto the statement in order to steer the conversation towards something more controllable. "Is that where you get the name Snow White from?"

Another answer that he had practiced, "Yes, because Snow White has a special connection to animals, and while I cannot sing as pretty as her when I call they come to me to help."

"Fascinating," the announcer proclaimed, eyes darting down to move onto the next question he had to ask. "We've got a few questions from the audience that we'd like to ask you."

Miss Andrews had informed him of this. She promised that none of them were an invasion of privacy and that they had been approved by the Justice Bureau for airing.

Nodding his head, not really knowing how else to react, Caboose adjusted in his seat, trying to look more casual.

He likes to think that he did not fail in doing so.

"First things up, from the lovely Miss Sasha- say hi sweetheart!" the camera's swiveled towards the audience to show a blushing young woman who shyly waved towards the camera. "She would like to know how it feels to be the number one ranking hero at the moment?"

"Ah, it's very nice, you know? Because that means I'm helping out my team, and helping my friends and the city makes me very happy indeed," he answered. 

"A true hero and a team player at heart, and we can't help but love him!" switching his cards, Jax read aloud the next question. "Now, audience member Josh would like to know if anyone's caught the apple of your eye, so to say."

While both the announcer and the public laughed at the pun, Caboose merely blinked and furrowed his eyebrows, not really getting it.

"Um, I don't get it," he admitted, not really a fan of saying that on live television.

"What they mean to ask is, do you have a special someone in your life at the moment?" Jax elaborated.

And just like that, his heart dropped. Sweat started to form on his temple's, and his eyes looked at the obscured audience, knowing that they were waiting for his answer.

"I- no," he started, trying his best to not stumble over his words. "There was- there was someone.  _ Once. _ But that didn't really work out?"

Jumping at what looked like some good gossip, Jax asked, "Didn't work out? Was your being a hero getting in the way of a love life?"

Caboose swallowed, not sure how to answer.

"Well,  _ no-" _ how could it when he was the reason why Caboose was able to join the Second League anyways? "It was more like- well, he was already, uh, married when I met him?"

Both Jax and the audience gasped.

"And he loved his wife a lot, even when she passed away," he continued, trying to not get upset while thinking about it. Texas was such a lovely woman, even if she was a bit mean and stern. "He was very heartbroken for a long time. And then he passed away himself. There wasn't anything anyone could do about it." 

"Wow," and Caboose had a feeling that that was a genuine reaction from the announcer. "Well, I am very sorry to hear about that, Snow White."

He shrugged, not sure if he should say anything. Not sure what to say anyway. 

Because yeah. He was sorry too.

* * *

The rest of the interview went by in a blur. Honestly, Caboose couldn't remember anything noteworthy after that one question.

He quickly got off of the set, not really wanting to be under the peering eyes of cameras any longer. On his way out of the studio, he passed by Miss Andrews who stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Good job out there, Snow White," she said. "You can leave your mask and visor in the locker rooms."

"Ok," he nodded.

He turned to leave once more, but the soft call of Miss Andrews stopped him again.

"You did well this evening," Andrews said, a small frown gracing her lips. "Take the rest of the day off tomorrow. Ok?"

While he didn't want to shirk his duties as a hero... a day off did sound nice.

"Thank you, Miss Andrews," Caboose said. 

Without anyone stopping him, he left while also making sure to stow away his costume pieces in his locker, and walked out into the crisp night.

He didn't really want to go home at the moment. Didn't want to be reminded of the still refusal invitation of stay that he keeps open for Church. And while he'd always love to sit down and cuddle with Freckles, he wasn't too sure that the Great Dane could make him happy at the moment.

Instead, he wandered around the Silver Level, not really having been on it. His cozy little home was situated on Steel, and that's where he spent most of his time.

But it couldn't hurt to take a walk around, maybe see if there was a nice park where he could bring Freckles to- if they allowed dogs at least.

Nobody really bothered him as he walked, after all, a man in a suit on the Silver Level wasn't exactly out of place. People might have thought he was heading towards a date, had it not been for the way he had his shoulders hunched and his hands in his pockets, head downcast.

Why that question out of all the ones that could be asked?

Caboose thinks that perhaps it had been permitted because they were hoping that Jax could swing it in a way that would make him look like an eligible bachelor. 

But Caboose thought he was just fine the way he was now. He didn't need someone in his life.

But... he couldn't deny that it would be... nice.

He had all the friends he could possibly want in the world, but they couldn't stay with him all the time. Not even the other heroes could be convinced to stay in the business forever, they all had lives and homes to get to at the end of the day. 

Not everyone had to have a family. 

He just wished that he had one himself is all. It looked so nice from the outside looking in. 

Sighing, he looked up at the sky, smiling a tad at how clear it was when there were no platforms to look past. 

It really was lovely to live on the Silver Level.

Focusing his attention in front of himself, he was delighted to see that he had stopped in front of the entrance to a park.

Since it was night, there weren't many people walking around, but he walked in anyways.

Maybe he could make some new friends with the birds in the trees. He only wished that he had known that he'd come here because then he would have brought some treats for all sorts of different animals.

Sticking to the walking path, he enjoyed the way that the breeze felt on the back of his neck. Caboose couldn't wait to get out of this stuffy suit.

Unfortunately, he was halfway through his little walk when the back of his ankles began to hurt from rubbing harshly against the stiff dress shoes that he was wearing.

He quickly searched for any sort of bench to rest against to message his poor ankles, and upon finding one, he quickly jogged over to it and sat down.

Caboose slipped off his shoes, relaxing somewhat when he had done so. They were very uncomfortable and he wasn't too sure that he would ever want to wear them ever again.

It wasn't until he heard someone shift beside him that he realized that he was sharing this bench with someone.

"Oh, hello!" he chirped, smiling at the woman who sat beside him. "I hope you don't mind that I'm sharing this bench with you."

The woman turned her head towards him, blinking but otherwise not changing her expression.

"Because sharing is caring and I like to think that I'm a very caring person," he continued. At getting no response, he opted to extend his hand whilst saying, "I'm Micheal! But everyone I know just calls me Caboose. It's nice to meet you!"

The woman looked down at his hand before extending her own and giving him a very firm handshake.

"Hello, I am M-Eight-Zero-Eight-V Main Battle Tank," she responded, and her voice was just the most lovely thing he had heard in a long while.

"That's really long," he stated. "Do you have any other name that I can call you by?"

"No," she turned her head away from him.

"Well that's alright," he settled against the back of the bench. "I can just call you Sheila! Because you look like a Sheila. Or maybe a Phyllis, but I think Sheila suits you much better."

"Sheila," she repeated, a small smile appeared and left as quickly as it came. "Is this the designation that you would like to call me by?"

"Uh," he blinked. "Yes?"

"Understood," she nodded her head. "I have registered Sheila into my memories."

"Well that's good, sometimes if I don't commit things to memory I forget about them too," Caboose looked at her again. "Sheila you are very pretty."

And it was true, she had a very dark black hair that was both fluffy and curled around her face, shaping it quite nicely.

She was only wearing a white tank top and dark grey shorts. While it might have been a plain outfit, Caboose thought she didn't need much to look pretty. She had a large build, plump but he had a feeling that she had muscles as well given that it looked like she was a jogger. 

With eyes of hazelnut and bright red lips, she was nothing short of beautiful.

"Thank you," her eyes closed as she smiled, the chirp of her voice making his heart do funny things.

"So Sheila, what do you like?" he asked, trying to make simple conversation.

"Like?" she looked down. "I don't have any likes listed."

"You don't need to have a list ready, just think from off of the top of your head!" Caboose could understand the pros of having a list ready on hand. It would make things easier, probably.

"Then I suppose I don't have any likes," Sheila amended.

"What- how can you- what do you mean you don't have any likes?" he exclaimed. "Everyone likes something!"

"I simply do not have any," she responded.

Frowning, he proclaimed,  _ "Everyone _ likes  _ something. _ What have you done recently? Maybe you liked something and just didn't realize it!"

"I have not experienced anything," Sheila said, much to Caboose's horror.

"Nothing?" he whispered.

"Nothing," she confirmed.

Having made up his mind, he nodded to himself, before getting up and off of the bench, exclaiming, "Sheila! I have now made it my mission to help you find something that you like!"

"A mission?" she asked, tilting her head.

Nodding firmly at her, he placed his hands on his hips, and exclaimed, "Yes! A mission! Tomorrow I would like you to meet me here, and together we will find something that you like!"

Deflating and loosing and confidence that he had gained, he bashfully added, "If you would like to, of course."

For a while, Sheila said nothing, before nodding to herself and saying, "Mission accepted."

Taking that as a yes, he grinned broadly and mentally fist-pumped. 

"Then I shall see you tomorrow, Sheila," he said. "Goodnight!"

He turned and walked off in the same direction that he had come, before pausing and rushing back.

Sheila hadn't moved from her spot, and at seeing his return, he blushed as he gestured to the shoes that he had left behind, "Almost forgot about these. Sorry!"

Grabbing them, he turned tail and ran without even putting them on. 

Normally, he would have been embarrassed by a slip up like that, but all he could feel was an intense joy.

Because he had a day off tomorrow and he was going to be  _ helping _ someone find something that they liked.

If that wasn't what heroes did, then he didn't know what was supposed to be considered heroic.

* * *

The park in the morning was much more populated, but that didn't deter Caboose from heading towards the bench.

Upon approaching it, he noted that Sheila was wearing the same outfit from yesterday, she was even in the same position that he had last seen her in.

Now, he himself had settled for something much more comfortable than that suit. While still wearing a blue polo shirt, he had settled for khaki shorts and tennis sneakers, prepared to walk a lot today.

"Hello, Sheila," he greeted. While he wanted to ask about why she was wearing the same outfit, he didn't. Because back when Leonard Jr was still alive, there'd be some days where he couldn't find the strength to change clothes, especially after the eventual passing of his wife.

Maybe Sheila was the same way. He'd certainly be sad if he didn't experience  _ anything _ at all. 

Which isn't to say that he didn't experience sadness ever. Sometimes he still got sad. The untimely deaths of both of his friends, they were hard to deal with.

But he was getting better. Truly, he was.

"You look lovely today," she responded, in lieu of a greeting, and in turn almost making him trip over himself. "I am ready for our mission."

"Oh! That's- that's great!" he exclaimed, before remembering what he had brought with him. "I thought maybe we could see if the first thing you like is flowers, so I bought you one."

Presenting the red rose, he watched nervously as Sheila inspected it. She looked it over, leaning forward as she did so, before saying, "Would you like me to add it to my list of likes?"

Wilting a little bit, he stammered, "Well, I would have liked you to like it for yourself. Not because I want you to like it."

Sheila blinked before reaching out tentatively for the rose, plucking it gently out of his awaiting hands.

Holding it loftily, she looked it over again.

"I like roses," she said.

Smiling in relief, he exclaimed, "I'm glad you've already found something you like."

"Is the mission completed then?" she asked him, still staring at the rose, however.

His smile left his face, a bit of disappointment pooling in his stomach.

"Well, if you want it to be completed then, uh, yes?" he responded. "I'd still like to spend the day with you if you'd want to as well..."

Sheila got up, and instead of walking away from him like he thought she would, she merely placed the rose behind her ear, and said, "Then the mission is not yet complete."

That certainly managed to brighten his whole day, and as he gestured towards the park exit he began to tell her about his plans for the day, "I figured we could walk around and window shop! I haven't been at this level much, so I might find things that I like as well!"

"Understood," she replied, walking by his side.

Caboose could tell that this would be the start of a very wonderful day.

* * *

It wasn't until weeks later that he had realized that he very much did like Sheila in a way that surpassed a hero trying to help someone out. And it was the other heroes who helped him realize that.

"Someone looks happy," Church had commentated, as he watched his pseudo uncle use the treadmill in the training facility that FreelancerTV had supplied for all the heroes. "What's got you so happy, Unc?"

Not stopping in his exercise, Caboose merely grinned as he said, "I met a very nice lady, and I've been meeting up with her for a few weeks now!"

"Hold the fucking phone," Tucker exclaimed loudly, dropping his weights carelessly against the floor. "Caboose!"

He raced over to his fellow Blue, causing the larger man to stop the machine he was on for fear that he would trip and fall. Tucker grabbed Caboose's work out shirt and pulled the man towards his face.

"Caboose, have you been getting laid  _ this whole time," _ Tucker had his eyes wide, whether in fear or pride he couldn't tell.

"No," Caboose responded. "Because Sheila is a very nice lady who deserves many, many dates before we get to that level."

"Holy  _ fucking SHIT," _ Church exclaimed, shoving Tucker out of the way. "Why am I just finding out about this now?!"

"You're not mad, are you?" Caboose asked. He doesn't know what he would do if Church was mad at him for this. Because he  _ really _ likes Sheila, but his nephew would always come first.

"Mad? Are you kidding me?" Church rolled his eyes, before grinning madly. "I'm fucking excited! I haven't seen you this happy, in like,  _ forever." _

"What are you even talking about," Grif commentated from where he was napping on one of the training benches, not even bothering to open his eyes. "Caboose is  _ always _ happy."

"Yeah, but not like  _ this, _ asshole," Church snapped. 

"You're just jealous because Caboose has a love life while yours is stuck in Egypt," Tucker supported. "Because it's in  _ denial." _

"I'm going to kill you for the pun," Grif peered at him through one open eye, before closing it again. "But not right now, because I'm sleeping."

"You're always sleeping," Caboose said. "Maybe you should get a better bed if you're having problems sleeping at night."

"Sure, I'll get right on that," the Red hero snarked. "Just as soon as I stop being poor."

"We're not gonna talk about your broke ass right now," Church intervened. "Because right now we're gonna focus on a foolproof plan to get me a new aunt."

"What?" Caboose blinked down at Church. "You're gonna help me with my relationship with Sheila?"

"Of course," the teenager huffed. "What? You're gonna deny my help?"

"Well, I have been doing very well on my own so far," he said awkwardly, tied between wanting to do this all by himself and wanting to do anything to please his nephew. 

"Come on, Uncle Caboose, I just want to help!" the teenager threw his hands up in the air.

"I- alright," he conceded. "But only a little bit."

"Yes!" Church exclaimed, jumping. "Ok, first things first- when's the next time that you're going to meet with her?"

"We planned to meet tomorrow," Caboose said. "I mentioned something about wanting to show her this neat art gallery that I heard about. I was hoping to see if she likes art."

"Ok, perfect," Church nodded. "This gives us a whole night to figure out the best way for you guys to wrap up that date."

"If you're sure..." he said, not really sure his teenage nephew knows what he's doing.

But it couldn't hurt to get help. He really did want things to work out with Sheila.

* * *

Per Church's advice, he was supposed to go home and rest immediately.

But as he was driving down to the Steel Level something had caught his eye. 

Which is how he had parked in front of a small clothing store, looking at one of the jackets on display.

It was from the brand new hero line, and while he hadn't read the title of it, he knew instinctively that the hero was him. 

And as he walked in and saw the embroidered design on the back, the bright red poison apple, he knew it was a Snow White bomber jacket.

Which lead to him buying it, not even wincing at the price, because he knew that it was a good idea.

Because even though Sheila never  _ said _ she was cold, Caboose had a feeling that wearing only a tank top in the chilly nights of Blood Gulch couldn't possibly be comfortable.

Heading towards the park, he wanted to take a quick glance to see if Sheila was there. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he would really like it if she wore the jacket tomorrow on their date. 

As always, Sheila was sitting down on the same bench, wearing the same plain old outfit.

"Hello, Sheila," he greeted. And before she could greet him back, he held out the bag that held the jacket. "I bought this for you!"

Sheila blinked, looking at the bag. "Caboose, you did not need to buy me something."

"Yes, but I wanted to," he said, before jostling the bag slightly. "Go on."

Reaching for the bag, she pulled out the jacket, staring at it for a long time before turning it over to see the design.

"I'm afraid I don't understand the reference," she said as she lowered it onto her lap.

"Oh, well, it's based on Snow White," he explained but stopped the part of him that wanted to explain that it was because  _ he's _ the hero  _ named _ Snow White. "Because... you're the apple of my eye?"

He included jazz hands with that last part, a smile on his face as he waited for her reaction.

Sheila looked at him, then looked down at the jacket, before letting out the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

She was laughing. At his joke. And it was like wind chimes to his ears.

"I get it," she said, before holding up the jacket. "Because of the apple?"

Nodding his head rapidly, he exclaimed, "Yes! Because of the apple, that is it exactly!"

He settled down against the bench beside her and watched as she played with the sleeves of the jacket.

"Why a jacket?" she asked.

"Well," he started, pausing as he mulled over the right things to say. "I had a friend once who used to get into bad moods an awful lot. His wife was very sick and sometimes he couldn't function. So he'd get into these moods and not change his clothes and didn't have any energy."

Sheila was silent as she listened to what he had to say.

"I used to help him, during these moods," Caboose explained. "And it didn't need to be much, but sometimes little things like changing his outfit could help improve his spirits."

"So you think that a change in outfit could help me?" she said, looking straight at him.

"Perhaps," he said. "When we first met, you said that you had no likes and had experienced nothing. I think I would get into a bad mood too if I were you. So I thought... maybe things could get much better for you, one change in clothes at a time?"

She didn't say anything, and that made him worry that perhaps he had overstepped their boundaries. He shouldn't have said anything-

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much, Caboose." 

"You like it?" he asked.

She nodded her head, before slipping on the jacket, clenching the edges in her hands the zipper probably leaving marks on her hands from how tightly she did so, "Yes. I like it a lot."

"I'm glad that you do!" he exclaimed. "Wait, let me just take off the tag for you... there we go! You're all set!"

The blue and gold of the jacket did much to bring color and life to Sheila. And Caboose didn't need to ask any silly mirror who the fairest of them all was. 

Taking a subtle glance at his wrist communicator, he saw the time and knew that he would have to say goodbye.

"Goodnight, Sheila," he said. "I'm excited to see you again tomorrow."

"As am I," she responded, dipping her head as a farewell.

While sad to have to leave, Caboose knew that the sooner he went to bed, the sooner that it would be tomorrow. And tomorrow entailed a wonderful date with an equally wonderful woman. And that was enough to get him to hurry to where he had parked his car.

Sitting in the position that she always did, Sheila relaxed her grip on the jacket, even settling her hands down in her lap. Normally, this is where she would remain until the next day, but a  _ ping _ brought her to attention, eyes glowing a bright red as her processors took in the information.

"Mission accepted," she announced to no one, getting off of the bench without company for the first time since she had gotten lost. 

Turning her attention towards the Sidewinder Museum, she stalked off in the direction, feeling her main battle cannons forming from her lower arms, not paying any mind to the way that they strained against the confines of her jacket sleeves.

She had a mission to complete.

* * *

Caboose sighed as he settled in the driver's seat of his car. Finally, he could head home towards the Steel Level to get a good night's rest-

A blue glow filled the dark vehicle, as an incoming call screen appeared on his wrist communicator.

Oh no. This- this was not good at all.

_ "Snow White!" _ Miss Andrews said as soon as her face appeared, indicating that the two devices connected.  _ "Where are you right now?" _

"I'm at this Silver Level park? The one- the, uh," he fumbled to remember the exact name of it.

_ "The one nearby the Sidewinder Museum?" _ she guessed, looking relieved from what he could see.

"Uh, yes! That one, that is the one," he nodded.

_ "Good, that means you and Epanalamváno are the heroes closest to the crime," _ Miss Andrews explained.  _ "I need you to get suited up and get there pronto, an unidentified individual has stormed the building. We presume they intend to steal the recent shipment of priceless jewels that just came in today." _

"Ah, understood!" he saluted her, thankful that he had brought his hero suit with him, and a quick glance at the back seat showed that the gym bag was still there.

_ "Good, we'll see you on camera, Snow White," _ Miss Andrews stated. She was beginning to close the call, and as such Caboose only heard her mutter,  _ "We need to get you all better ways to arrive at the crimes, this is ridiculous." _

That last part was clearly not intended for him, so like a good hero, he didn't try to call back and ask her what she meant. Instead, he took off his seat belt and climbed into the back seat of the car, grabbing his bag before realizing something pretty important.

He had nowhere private to change. And it'd be irresponsible of him as a hero to just waste time trying to  _ find _ someplace to change.

Which meant...

Yeah, he was going to have to just strip off his outfit in the backseat of his car.

Well, at least he's done weirder things before. And he could make this quick!

With hopefully nobody passing by and seeing him near-nude. That- yeah, that would be hard to explain.

Slipping on his under armor, he does so with the haste of both a hero who needs to get to the scene of a crime and a person who does not want to get a misdemeanor for public stripping. 

Caboose assures himself that everything is fine, even as he tightens the straps on his spaulders and his sabatons and leg guards and gauntlets and just- a lot of armor in general. It's with relief that he slipped on his leather chest plate first because if he had messed up with the order it'd be a lot of straps to take off and that would be more wasted time.

Tightening his mask against his face, he slips on his visor and is immediately connected to Church's panicked call of,  _ "Unc- Snow White?! Are you nearby?" _

"Epanalamváno! Yes, I am on my way now!" he tumbled as he opened the car door, nearly falling out in his haste. Slamming the door closed, he raced off towards the museum, locking the car by gesturing with his keys over his shoulder. "Are you ok?!"

_ "I don't know! I got here and then I had to call up Theta for a shield!" _ his nephew sounded panicked.  _ "I think this chick might be a cyborg or, fu- heck, something! I don't exactly think there's a NEXT who can make their arms into cannons- Holy FUCK!" _

"Are you alright?!" at the sound of his nephew's screams, he almost tripped, his heart beating faster than he thought it could. That was not a good sound that Church made.

_ "I- yeah I'm fine," _ the younger hero was panting from exhaustion.  _ "I just had to dodge her fucking plasma cannons. But otherwise? Yeah, I'm fine." _

"I am almost there," he reassured. "Wait just a little more, are you hiding?"

_ "There's nowhere really to hide- FUCK," _ the hero screamed again.  _ "SIGMA, HELP." _

Oh. Oh, that was not good at all. 

If his nephew was relying on  _ Sigma _ to help-

Then things must have already gone up in smoke.

And sure enough, as soon as he stopped in front of the Sidewinder Museum, it was already lit aflame. Whether due to this criminal or because of his nephew's reliance on the blaze that was the Sigma fragment, he had no idea.

All he knows is that he's tuning out the announcement of Jax Jonez in his ear,  _ "For being the second hero to arrive at the scene of the crime, Snow White is awarded five points!" _ in favor of his nephews panicked,  _ "What the heck is this thing?!" _

Without any more hesitation, he hurries into the museum, thankful that his mask prevented smoke from filling up his lungs, and thankful that his visor prevented it from getting in his eyes.

In between the raging inferno, he sees two glowing red eyes, and he can make out the shape of what he  _ thinks _ is a woman, but the closer that she approaches, he can tell that she is not human in the slightest. 

Her outfit is burnt and charred black, bits and pieces crumbling with movement, he can't even tell what color it was originally. 

The criminal had no skin either, or well, he assumes that at one point she did have skin. But now all that's left of it is segments that were slowly going up in flames as well. Clumps of hair completed the horrifying look, somehow accentuating the metal exoskeleton of the robot.

The criminal was a robot. Oh, this was very much not good. Not good in the slightest.

Caboose attempted to look around for his nephew, but found himself having to dodge a blast from the robot, who's fragmented and glitchy voice spoke, "Do not attempt to interfere, hero."

"Ah, yes, well, I can not do that, so-" he cut himself off, dodging another blast. "I would very much like it if you did not shoot at me!"

"Do not interfere with my mission," she stated, preparing to charge.

Oh, it is moments like these where he very much did wish that Miss Andrews has supplied him and a sword and a shield as well.

Not wanting to endanger any of his friends, Caboose realized gravely that this would be a fight he would have to fight on his own.

The robot came towards him, and he raised his arms whilst crossing them to form a defense. The robot reared back her arms to slam against him, managing to push him back due to the force of the blow.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to see if he could use his environment to his advantage. Which, yeah no, that would- that would not be a very smart idea and he can already hear Miss Andrews scolding him for putting any of the priceless art pieces in danger. He already knew that Church was going to get a tongue lashing just for setting the place on fire and for cursing on air again.

So, yeah, Caboose would very much like to not get in trouble with the producer of the show. So he would just have to get creative. Which- which is something he could  _ totally _ do with no problems in the slightest.

He had this. He was going to be a hero. Just like Leonard wanted him to be. 

Focusing on the whir of the plasma cannon's charging up, he dodged behind one of the pillars in the museum, just narrowly missing a blast that destroyed the floor tiles.

Then, he charged and shoved the robot as fiercely as he could, making sure to lean in on the part of his arm that was armored.

Not expecting the blow, the robot was launched into the wall, making a small impression in the crumbling plaster.

But of course, it hardly looked phased by the blow, launching herself towards him once more. 

Launching an array of barges against him, Caboose did his best to keep up by deflecting the hits. Stopping for a moment, she reared back both of her arms, attempting to charge up another attack, when he suddenly grabbed one of her arms by both hands and swung her around and away.

Knocking her aside again, he noticed his nephew sneaking his way closer, glowing brightly as he summoned Eta and Iota, the two fraternal twins mirroring poses upon formation.

Caboose didn't even need to be told what to do, enough practice in the training hall queued him in onto the maneuver that would lead to a swift capture of the criminal.

All he had to do...

Was getting the robot in the right  _ position. _

"Hey, mean robot lady!" he called out to the machine that was recovering from his attack. "I think that you are, uh, very rude! Art needs to be looked at not stolen!"

"Do not im-impede the- the- mission,  _ heroes," _ she froze on the last word dragging it out as her voice dipped in an octave. 

Caboose was almost thankful for it, no matter how creepy it sounded. At least that meant that his attacks were making a difference.

"I will impede! Like- a lot. So if you want to stop me," he shifted a leg back, firmly planting his heel into the floor. "Come and stop me."

Accepting the false invitation, the robot dashed towards him, right in time for him to roundhouse kick her towards the positions of the fragments. 

The twins didn't waste a single second, they rushed at the incoming machine like a pair of hungry and quite frankly rabid dogs. Their synchronization worked to their best ability as they latched onto the two arm-cannon-things and  _ yanked _ with all the strength they represented. 

Tearing off the automatons arms in a shriek of metal that protested at the action, the twins discarded the useless appendages in favor of mimicking the weapons with their own arms, having held what was technically a weapon. 

Such was the state of these particularly frightening fragments of his nephews.

He almost felt bad when the two twins turned their heads towards each other, nodding once, before turning back towards the near defenseless robot.

Without hesitation, without an inch of mercy, they fired shot after shot after  _ shot _ into the robot, blasting her practically into bits until all that remained was thin wiring of what could  _ barely _ resemble a human being.

"Snow White! Catch!" his nephew rushed forward, dismissing the two twins when their power diminished and they needed to recharge the cannon's, and instead Church kicked the machine with both of his feet, to propel it backward.

Prepared for the move, he once again roundhouse kicked the robot, and due to the destruction that she already faced, he practically knocked her out of the ballpark.

"Where'd she go?" Church asked between huffs of air, his masked visor not concealing his panicked look.

A few minutes passed the smoke clearing now that most of the fire had diminished.

They knew it was all over when they heard the announcement of Jax Jonez,  _ "Incredible folks! Truly incredible! Due to the teamwork envisioned, our youngest hero Epanalamváno gains fifty points! Unfortunately, it seems as though this criminal has gotten away, and so neither of our heroes will be leaving with two-hundred points." _

That... was probably not good. 

But it didn't look like the robot could even survive with all the intensive damage that it took.

So... maybe it would just die? And hopefully wouldn't come back from the dead, because Caboose really did not want to fight a zombie robot.

Dismissing Jax's routine farewell and  _ 'thanks for tuning in!' _ message, Church looked up at him and bashfully ruffled his own hair. "Uh, sorry about all the mess."

"Miss Andrews is not going to like that," he claimed, merely stating facts.

"I don't care what she thinks," Church rolled his eyes. "I totally ruined your date for tomorrow! Wasn't this where you were going to bring Sheila?"

"Oh," he blinked before he set in. "Oh  _ no." _

* * *

Arriving at the park bench, he held a bouquet of flowers to give to Sheila as an apology. If he had known that a robot was going to destroy the art gallery he wouldn't have suggested it! 

He was hoping that the flowers would make up for it.

But when he got to the bench, Sheila wasn't there yet. Which was odd, because Sheila was  _ always _ there at their meeting time.

Perhaps she was running late! He knew the feeling. But that was ok because he didn't mind waiting a little bit for her to make it on time.

So he waited. And waited. And waited. 

And waited and waited and waited and waited and-

* * *

"How'd it go, Unc?" Church asked, looking up from his handheld game for a second.

Holding back a sob, and letting the tears fill his eyes, he can only sit down at one of the training center benches and say, "Ah well, she never showed up."

Slowly closing the game, Church pocketed it and approached his uncle.

"I-" he stopped not sure what to say. "Fuck, I'm sorry man. I know how much you wanted things to work between the two of you."

Shaking his head, Caboose could only sigh, "I guess... I guess I wasn't one of the things she ended up liking."

Church sat down next to him and leaned against his shoulder. Caboose lifted his arm and wrapped it around the teenager's smaller form.

He would be fine. He always was in the end.

* * *

Alone, and feeling tired in a way that she would not expect, she felt herself powering down. Forever.

She tried to make her way to the bench, to the park, to the Silver Level proper. But she hardly had enough power to sustain movement beyond the junkyard she had ended up at.

And yet, with the small bit of energy that she had left knowing that anything else was fruitless, she uttered out a soft, "I find that I like Micheal Caboose."

She wanted the last thing said to have meaning. A purpose. Because she could deviate from her own code. She developed feelings it turned out.

Sheila was never meant to have any of those.

And just like that, she went out like a dim flame that couldn’t sustain itself any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, I don't think anyone here has actually _watched_ Tiger & Bunny, but Caboose's story I obviously took heavy inspiration from the episode featuring Sky High and the robot Cis. When watching the show all I could think was, 'This is just Caboose with Sheila' and that was one of the reasons that I wanted to make this AU in the first place. So I couldn't _not_ allude to it. 
> 
> Well, more chapters to come! So if you want to come chat with me, you can find me at either of my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscribes (writing).


	2. Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church may be a hero and a member of the Second League, but he's just a fifteen-year-old at the end of the day.
> 
> And fifteen-year-olds can get lonely too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, so sorry for having not updated in so long! So much has happened since I last posted involving my college, I made a second ao3 account for cartoon shows, and I had a bit of a nervous breakdown, but I'm back and ready to start posting and updating this new year! I would recommend going back and reading the previous installments and chapter, I know I sure had to, but nonetheless I hope you guys are prepared for my return!
> 
> No Beta this go around, I'm divorcing them, so all mistakes are mine. I hope you guys enjoy!

Decidedly, a night where it's completely quiet fucking sucks.

And not for the first time in his short and measly fifteen years of life, Church wishes that he wasn't all alone.

Don't get him fucking wrong, he's a brooding little bitch of a teenager, but that was only when he was forced to interact socially, and when he had to go outside even if he'd much rather stay inside and play games all night long.

But even that was a lie, a facade that could crumple at practically any moment.

In the beginning, when he just had the mansion all to himself, then yeah, he enjoyed the small moments of quiet that he got. Never before had he been able to play games all night long and not get scolded.

But that was before the concept that his dad wasn't ever coming back settled in.

He doesn't even know how it didn't hit him immediately.

Sure, he was sad during the funeral- fuck, who wouldn't be when you were just a kid left all alone and your only living family members couldn't be bothered to give a fuck about you or your late father?

But when he got back to his house it was like he was in a haze, it didn't register to him that the halls of the mansion would forever be empty beyond himself.

He was lucky that he even got to keep the house after everything with the will was all sorted out, at least, that's what he told himself.

So he forced himself to stay in that empty house because fuck it all, this was the house that his father  _ raised _ him in, how could he just go behind his back and leave it or sell it?

Which is the main reason why he never accepted Uncle Caboose's offer of living with him in his apartment in the Steel Level.

If he could just get over his goddamn pride, swallow that shit whole, then he'd jump on the chance to have a house filled with sounds again. Even if it was the sounds of cars zooming down the streets or the sound of Freckles running around the building.

But the suffocating silence was getting to him as he laid down in his much too large bed, a bed made for two but that now belonged to him, even when the lingering scents had long since faded away.

Activating his powers, a white glow filled the room and standing before him stood Alpha, waiting for directions.

Without looking at the specter haunting the side of his bed, knowing that his eyes would fill up with tears, he said, "Can you play the piano for me downstairs? Until I fall asleep?"

Alpha didn't say anything, only nodding his head, so Church buried his head into his pillow, wanting to ignore the entity that he brought into existence.

He listened to the footsteps go down the stairs, and then the melancholy sounds of a piano playing drift upwards, muffled due to the distance, but a sound nonetheless.

And he stared out the window, ignoring all the photos in the room and the clothes that wouldn't fit him left in disarray on the floor until his eyes started to flutter closed.

He's too out of it to notice that the music stopped, or the softly padding steps coming closer to his room. He's too far gone into his dreams to feel a hand brush his hair, before crumbling away into nonexistence in a dimmed glow.

Anything was better than this.

* * *

Church doesn't know if it was some sort of revelation that he had had in his dreams that made him stare down every member of the Second League the next day, but all he knows is that his mind is roaring with uncontrolled plans.

He just couldn't take it anymore, for one night- just  _ one _ he was going to stay at somebody's house so that he could get the human affection that he craved.

He couldn't go to Uncle Caboose's house, he just... couldn't give the man false hope like that. Church was only planning to spend a single night at somebody else's, but if he stayed with Uncle Caboose then the man would think that he was considering his offer and when he eventually didn't move in-

Well, it would just be mean, and Church would never want to be willingly mean to him.

So Uncle Caboose was a no go.

And neither was Miss Andrews or Vic, the first was obvious- that would just be too awkward, and the other man might experiment on him in his sleep or something equally nefarious. 

But knowing Vic he probably just had the weirdest shit known to man in his house, and Church wasn't looking to get scarred for life, thank you very much.

Also, he wasn't sure if the man ever left his lab. So there was that too, on the off chance that he ever felt truly desperate enough to consider the man.

Which left the others.

He didn't want to bother Tucker, mainly because he had a feeling that he would unintentionally bump heads with his kid and he didn't feel like getting put on babysitter duty.

Sarge probably lived in some sort of utilitarian apartment, with just a single room that encompassed a bed and the kitchen. So no to that too.

Lopez was also out because he would have no idea if the man would let him or not, and he didn't want to assume what he was saying this time around since it'd probably lead to him getting not so politely kicked out of his apartment for following him home.

Which left Grif or Simmons.

Simmons was tempting, the guy had a respectable sized house on the Silver Level, he was no doubt clean and orderly. 

But he was such a tightwad that he'd lose his mind due to boredom. Or he'd kill the guy for trying to bring out a chessboard or engage in 'intellectual' discussions with him.

So the answer was obvious.

During the designated training period, he walked up to Grif who had taken a position in the lounge, resting on the couch as the rest of them actually exercised.

He stood over the man, staring down at him until he acknowledged his presence.

And he had to hand it to Grif, the man could ignore anything if he really put his mind to it.

But unfortunately for him, Church wasn't going to leave until he got what he wanted.

Which lead to them staying in this position until the entire hour was almost up.

Finally, Grif cracked open one of his eyes, looked him up and down, before groaning and covering his face with both of his hands.

"What do you want, Church," he mumbled into his hands.

"So, the funny thing is, I'm following you home tonight  _ and _ will be crashing on your couch," he decides politeness was out the fucking window since this bastard made him stand and wait for a full fucking  _ hour. _

Dragging his hands down his face, Grif peered at him with abject curiosity, asking, "Why the hell would you want to do that?" 

Shrugging, he says, "Why not?"

"No offense kid-" he started.

"I will take absolute offense to anything you say, asshole," he interrupted.

"- I don't think you've ever been to the Bronze Level in your life," Grif ignored him. "And I don't know what your dad told you about it, but it's not all sunshine and roses."

"Believe me, I know that much," he rolled his eyes, ignoring the old pain he got at the mention of his father. 

"It's miserable," Grif reminded him.

But too bad Church didn't care, "I know."

Seeing that he was dead set on the idea, Grif assessed him once more for good measure, before settling on, "Your loss, kid."

"So is that a yes?" Church perked up, eyes glinting behind his glasses.

"Whatever, not like I'm gonna try to stop you," Grif responded. "Whenever we're let out of here just follow me to my car, and try not to make any kidnapping jokes."

Bristling, he responded, "I  _ wasn't _ gonna."

"Bullshit," Grif said, waving him off.

Bastard, it wasn't like Church was gonna do it with the intention of getting him arrested. Damn him for knowing Church well enough.

Secured in that he had somewhere to stay tonight, he finally moved away from the lounge, his legs all tingly from standing in place so long, and went on his merry way.

* * *

Somehow, miraculously, there were no alerts that day, which meant that after loitering around the training room and catching up on whatever paperwork they had, all of the heroes were allowed to go home at a normal hour for once.

And as per their agreement, Church followed after Grif as the older man made his way to his car.

Scrambling in the jeep after him, he buckled his seat belt when he saw Grif pull out a pair of aviator sunglasses and put them on.

"What are you wearing," he asked with a sneer on his face.

Without even glancing at him, Grif started backing out of his parking spot, remarking, "I'm not gonna let a teenager cramp my style. Now, do we need to stop by your house to pick up anything? Because I'm just gonna flat out say that I don't have  _ anything _ for you to use in terms of nightwear or a toothbrush at my house."

Shit. That was a good point, "Yeah, I'm gonna have to pick up a few things."

"Great," Grif said sarcastically. Waving his hand to the side, he said, "Open that glove compartment, will you? Somewhere among all those parking violation tickets is a slip of paper with your address on it."

Raising an eyebrow at that, but complying nonetheless, Church opened the glove compartment and pulled out the important-looking documents first- fuck if he knew what any of them were for, considering he was one more birthday away from being allowed to get a permit- and then started to sort through the many,  _ many _ tickets that Grif had.

It took some time, but he eventually picked aside a slip of worn out, yellowed paper with faded scrawl on it. 

His father had written this address down, he could recognize that handwriting anywhere.

"Thanks," Grif brought him out of his thoughts by plucking the paper out of his hands. "Yeah, I was going in the right direction or so. Hey, you think your neighbors will call the cops on me while I wait outside your house?"

"That's not funny, Grif," Church scowled. 

"It's a little funny," the older man said a mean smile on his face. "We should be there in a few minutes or so, but in the meantime, you can pick one radio station to listen to. None of that switching between stations crap."

That was nice of him-  _ considering. _ It'd be a long drive down to the Bronze Level after all, so being able to listen to the music that he liked was a nice consolation.

He fiddled with the radio until he tuned into the alternative rock station that he liked, wanting to see if he could get a rise out of Grif with his music choice, but for once the older man was practicing proper driving safety and kept his attention on the road and where he was going.

Considering that Silver was still in constant development, most of the residential housing was in a centralized area. So it didn't take all that long before Grif was pulling up to the mansion that Church owned, whistling as he sized the place up.

"Wow, had I know this is where your old man and you lived I would have accepted his offer much sooner," Grif commented.

"What offer?" Church asked, curious.

"Bah, something that involved a lot of work on my part," Grif said, avoiding the question. "The house would have sweetened the deal, sure, but I don't think your mom cared much for me."

"Really?" he knew that he should have been getting his stuff by now if they were to avoid a majority of the traffic at this hour, but he was soaking in any information that he could involving his parents. It'd been too long since he talked to somebody about them that didn't involve them giving him their condolences or an air of misplaced sympathy.

"She threatened to kick my ass at  _ least _ three separate times," Grif revealed. "Your mom was horrifying, kid."

Chuckling softly, his eyes darted to the side as he said, "Yeah," having recalled all the times she grounded him or stood her ground against his childish tantrums.

"Now hurry up," the older man said. "I literally don't have all day to watch you stand outside your rich ass house."

"Right," nodding his head, he unlocked the door and entered the house.

Church knew exactly where an old duffel bag was, and after unzipping it and turning it upside down to shake whatever was in there out, he just stuffed a change of clothes, his pajamas, some toothpaste and a toothbrush, his deodorant, and his chargers for his phone and game in the bag.

Not looking in any of the rooms for something he might want to bring with him, he walked out of the house, barely remembering to lock the doors, when Grif held up his hand making him pause before entering the jeep again.

Church couldn't see where his eyes were directed at, and he opened his mouth to ask what the big deal was when Grif beat him to the punch, "You might wanna go back in there and get whatever you think is most valuable to you out of there."

Grif's voice was low, which in turn caused Church to speak in a hushed whisper as well, "What are you talking about?"

"There's a van that's been stationed outside your house for the past thirty minutes," Grif explained, purposefully not looking in the direction of the jeep outside of the mansion gates. "They haven't moved, the car’s just standing there idly. They're definitely looking to rob you."

"What?" he blinked, shocked. "Why?"

"Because I'm willing to put my bets on the fact that they've been casing your house for the past week, noticed that one  _ teenager _ was the only person to come and leave the house, and figured it'd be an easy target," Grif said. "Now, they might be wary now that they see an adult- me if you couldn't figure that out- here, but that might not stop them from taking the chance on a score as big as this house."

Church didn't know what to do, his eyes darting towards the van that- just as Grif had said- was perched just outside of his home.

"So again, go back in there and get anything that you don't want getting destroyed when they ransack the place," Grif turned towards him as he said that.

Swallowing, he clutched his duffel bag tighter.

He thought about all the family photo albums that he hasn't touched in years. Or his dad’s collection of silly ties. Or his mother’s engagement ring.

Shaking his head, Church climbed back into the jeep, settling down his bag at his feet, and buckled in saying, "It's just a stupid house. I don't care what happens to it anyhow."

He knew that Grif was staring at him- he could practically feel his gaze on his skin, causing him to get goosebumps and shiver- but the older hero thankfully didn't press the issue.

Church let out a sigh of relief as the car started again and they left the mansion behind.

What could he possibly want from a ghost town anyhow.

* * *

As much as he loathed to admit it, Grif was right. Church  _ had _ never been to the Bronze Level.

Sure, his dad had told him plenty of stories about it from the frequent trips he made down there. He always said that heroes could come from anywhere, so when he had the beginning ideas of creating a Second League of Heroes, Leonard Jr. searched on the bottom level often.

But knowing about the Bronze Level and actually  _ being _ there were two different things entirely.

For one, he never knew how to get to the Bronze Level from Silver.

The drive from Silver to Steel wasn't bad, there was a ramp that connected the two levels, simple enough.

It was the drive from Steel to Bronze that really fucked with his head. 

Church knew that the Steel Level had built into the sides of the canyon, that was before the city had decided to build up one more level. But he had no idea that the only way to get from Steel to Bronze was by entering a tunnel in the canyon walls down to the floor of the divide.

A very long, dark, and crowded tunnel.

Grif reached over and the radio down to a low hum, saying, "It's a common courtesy since I own a jeep and all. Plus, if you strain your ears hard enough, you can hear some of Neon bleed through."

Going so far as to hold his breath to hear, sure enough, Church could hear the faint sounds of music muffled through the canyon walls.

"To anyone else, it's just someone playing their music a little too high," Grif explained. "But to Bronze citizens, we know at least  _ someone _ is going to have a good time tonight."

"Gross," was all he could say, wrinkling his nose, trying his hardest to not get crushed under the reality that there were literally large groups of people living inside of the canyon itself like mole people.

It took a really long time before they were out of the tunnel and on the level itself, which was when Church realized another thing about the Bronze Level.

It was really,  _ really _ hot. Hot and suffocating, fumes of factories clogging the air, and getting trapped underneath the foundation of the Steel Level.

It wasn't even five minutes before his shirt was sticking to his chest and he was fanning his face.

"How much longer till we arrive at your shitty apartment?" he snapped at Grif, who looked bemused at his reaction.

"Oh? I thought you  _ wanted _ to spend time on the most  _ luxurious _ and well-off level?" Grif had a shit-eating grin on his face, which only served to provoke his temper even more.

"You fucking  _ prick," _ he hissed, sweat dripping down his brow.

"Relax, kid," Grif rolled his eyes. "Besides, we're at my apartment parking garage, so soon you'll be inside just like the indoor cat that you are."

"'Indoor cat'," he mimicked. "What does that even mean?"

"It means that you're not meant to survive the harsh, outside world," Grif said, pulling into the parking garage and showing the attendant his residences pass. "You belong in a house, playing video games or lurking on the internet, or whatever it is that you do in your free time."

"Oh yeah, and what does that make you?" Church asked indignantly, raising his hackles, and unknowingly looking very much like a peeved off cat.

_ "I'm _ an outdoor cat who knew what the good life was, and became an indoor cat," Grif smirked, pulling into his parking spot. "Can I survive in the  _ scawy _ outdoors? Yes. Do I have to? Now that's the question of the night."

He didn't wait for Church to respond before pulling his keys out of the ignition and getting out of the car. Church had to think again about why he thought that could have possibly been a good idea.

But not wanting to get left behind in the sketchy parking garage, he followed after Grif who had only just barely stopped outside the elevator for him, the two of them getting in and Grif pressing his floor number.

The apartment hallway looked like shit, with aging wallpaper and concrete floors, Church couldn't have been happier to get inside of Grif's apartment.

"Finally," he sighed in relief, even happier when he felt cold air press against his cheeks, absolutely delighted to hear the hum of a working air conditioner.

"You're acting like you just walked through the market place," Grif remarked, wandering over to the couch, not bothering to take off his shoes as he propped up his feet on the coffee table.

"Whatever," he huffed, taking off his own shoes because his mother didn't raise him to be a rude houseguest. Just a rude teenager. "How come you don't move up a level, surely you've been making some money off of your sponsors."

"You're funny if you think I actually see any of that," Grif said while he rested his eyes. "Anyhow, I don't think I could handle living on any other level, you kind of get used to the grime in the air after a while- it's almost comforting."

"Yeah, sure," he remarked as he wiped a hand on his forehead only to pull back and see faint traces of dirt and ash. "And you're not dead how...?"

"Satan wants me to suffer, now enough questions, just sit down and pop in a movie," Grif gestured to his movie cabinet. "I literally don't care what you put in considering that I wouldn't have bought anything that I didn't want to watch anyhow."

Padding over to the cabinet, he stared at a bunch of old and practically ancient titles. 

"How'd you even get some of these?" as he pulled out a DVD case. "These have got to be from before the New Calendar."

"I know a guy who knows a guy whose  _ sister _ converts a lot of old classics into watchable discs," Grif explained with a shrug. "What can I say, some of these still hold up even after so long."

Putting back the DVD he had been looking at, he pulled out another one that looked like it had a superhero team on it. 

"These are even before NEXT's," he said, having decided to settle on the movie he currently held in his hand.

"No offense kid, but a  _ lot _ of things are before NEXT's," Grif snorted. "Sarge was a part of the first generation of NEXT's, remember? Not too long ago people like me and you were just considered your run of the mill witches and freaks. Now we've somehow become superheroes."

Right, NEXT's were something so normal for him because of how young he was, he had almost forgotten that the NEXT phenomenon was still a relatively new thing that the world was adapting to.

Having his own powers and being a part of a society that worshiped heroes was his whole life. Church couldn't imagine anything else.

Opening up the case, he pulled the DVD out of its spot and slid the disc into the TV. He settled down on the other end of the couch, pulling up his knees to his chest as he focused his eyes on the somewhat blurry screen.

The movie was  _ horrible _ but in that so-bad-it's-good kind of way. The audio was shot to crap, probably because of how old it was, and suits looked so tacky compared to what he and the other heroes wore.

At one particularly trashy moment, he turned towards Grif to make a wisecrack but stopped when he saw that the other man had fallen asleep on the couch, snoring lightly.

Had he been at Uncle Caboose's apartment he was sure that the man would have been delighted to make fun of the movie with him, although he'd probably flub it up and end up making the zaniest type of insults that Church had ever heard before.

He finished the rest of the movie with his head against his knees, holding onto himself tighter.

Just as the credits rolled, Grif woke up and yawned loudly before getting up to stretch.

"Do you have anything to eat?" Church asked, his stomach growling at the reminder that he hadn't had anything of real substance all day.

"Nope," Grif said, before making his way over to his- and Church couldn't believe what he was seeing- Grif's  _ landline. _ Seriously who the fuck even used those anymore? "But that's the joy of being a bachelor and an adult, you can order out whenever you want. So  _ I'm _ ordering a pizza."

Narrowing his eyes, Church asked, "Are you going to be  _ sharing _ this pizza?"

"Depends, you willing to pay?" Grif asked as he started to dial in a number.

"Yes," he grumbled, but only because he was hungry and because this wasn't his house to look around for snacks of some kind.

"Then yes, I'll share," Grif rolled his eyes, but then focused on the receiver as the call went through. "Yeah, hi, I'd like to place an order for delivery. Yeah- that's right. Now for the first pizza, I'd like everything on it- yes, that includes anchovies, cashews, pineapple-"

Grif just continued to list a variety of disgusting toppings, watching as Church's face no doubt displayed his absolute stomach-turning disgust at hearing the combination.

The older man was just being an asshole at this point the teen decided.

But Church's displeasure at the teasing must have been conveyed enough for Grif to stop, telling the person on the phone, "You know what I like Sammy. Yeah, the two of those will do just fine, thanks."

Clicking the phone back into place, Church pulled out his handheld game and turned it on with a grumpy, "You didn't tell them your address."

"Don't need to, they know me," Grif said. "Now, are you going to tell me why you're crashing at my place and not Caboose's?"

Pausing his game that he just started, Church tilted his head down, not wanting to talk about it to the older hero.

"I mean, if it's because he had the hot's for your dad then that's just silly-" this caused Church to look up at him in disbelief.

"What?!" he yelled incredulously, his voice cracking.

"People fall in love with whoever, it's totally normal," Grif continued.

"That's not it at all!" Church snapped. It really wasn't, his reluctance to stay with Uncle Caboose was- it- it was for a different reason entirely! Deflecting, he said, "And what would  _ you _ know about love? You can't get over yourself to bend that twink Simmons over and just fuck him already!"

"You're literally two years old, ugh, just hearing those words out of your mouth makes me want to hurl," Grif's face scrunched up. "And I'll have you know that I used to be quite the catch when I was your age, someone even asked me out once- of course I turned them down, you know, like the maverick that I was."

"Oh yeah?" Church challenged. "What was their name?"

"How would I remember? That was like, fifteen years ago," Grif shrugged. "Besides, you're trying to get off-topic. Tell me or don't, I'm giving you the once in a lifetime chance to vent your feelings, it'll literally never happen again."

"Maybe I don't WANT to talk about it," Church exploded, finally having enough with this shitty week, and just wanting to release his anger on somebody else for once. "Maybe I'm tired of going home to a silent ass house, of crying myself to sleep but not  _ feeling anything?! _ Maybe I just want my dad back or maybe I'm just too afraid of letting myself get close to anybody else that I care about  _ because people around me just seem to want to up and leave me and die, ok?!" _

The apartment was relatively silent after his outburst, all except for his angry huffs as he tried to suck in air, shoulders shaking from where he sat on the couch, back hunched over as his fingers dug into his knees.

His eyes are filling with tears and there's a ringing in his ears, so much so that he doesn't even pay attention to the added weight of the couch.

"Growing up an orphan kinda sucks, doesn't it?" Grif says, and Church is thankful that for the moment he's not addressing his outburst. "Especially as a teenager with all those gross hormones swirling together to create one hell of an almost adult."

Church doesn't respond to him, too busy trying to stop the tears that were welling up in his eyes from falling.

"I mean, look at me," Grif continued. "My dad turned tail and ran away before I was even born, all it took was one positive pregnancy test and he was out of there faster than probably Tucker can run when his power's activated."

Leaning back into the couch, Grif sighed, "When I was your age I met your father for the first time, and it was a year after I had dropped out of that- at the time- brand new academy for training NEXTs. Of course, how he could tell that I was a NEXT I have no idea, I was just trying to skip practice for my circus act-"

"What?" Church looked up at him. "You used to work in a circus?"

"For all of a second," the older hero squinted at him. "And I wasn't very good at my act anyhow."

"What was it?" the teen asked, blinking away tears as the pounding of his temples started to lesson since he didn't have to strain from attempting to not cry anymore.

"I was a part of the freak show segment, I was supposed to use my powers to 'dazzle' the audience with a light show," Grif revealed. "In any case, that day when I met Dr. Church I was not where I was supposed to be and he struck up a conversation with me about how I could possibly use my powers to be on a hero team."

Church remembers his father telling him this, about a potential hero who he would have liked to see in the Second League.

He died before he could see Grif inevitably join it.

"I'll be real with you kid, I don't believe in  _ any _ of this hero shit," Grif said, shocking Church. "Not MOI Media, not FreelancerTV, not the First League or even the Second League. It's all fabricated, heroes don't really exist."

Part of Church felt as though he should get up in arms and defend the project that his father had so feverishly believed in, but before he could, there was a knock on the door.

Grif got up and answered the door, and Church had completely forgotten that the man had ordered a pizza. Despite his earlier statements, he paid for the order in full, bringing the two pie boxes over to the kitchen table and placed one down in front of Church.

Opening it tentatively, he was shocked to see a plain cheese pizza, but he was even more shocked to see that Grif's wasn't that monstrosity that he had listed out, it was just a regular pepperoni pizza.

Not really feeling like talking, the both of them ate in silence, with Church managing to eat about only three slices of pizza before he started to feel a bit sick. Closing the box, he folded his arms and laid down his head on the countertop.

Grif, on the other hand, had managed to eat half of the pie, before noticing the forlorn look on Church's face. Church watched as the older hero wiped his greasy hands on his sweatpants.

"Look," Grif started, eyes diverted. "It doesn't matter what  _ I _ think. Your father was a good person with even more sincere beliefs, ok?"

Swallowing harshly, Church looked up at him from behind his circular frames, "Yeah, so what the fuck about it?"

"As I’ve said, I've been in your shoes before ok, back when I was fifteen and you weren't even a thought beyond a positive pregnancy test," the other hero said. "And I can't be what your father tried to be for me to you."

Rising up in his seat, he grits his teeth and raised his hackles as he retorted, "Bold of you to assume that that's what I wanted from you, you mother fu-"

"Don't lie to me," Grif interrupted, eyes glowing a bright blue. "I can tell when you're lying."

And as his eyes dimmed the side of his face flickered away and Church didn't know how to react to the sight of the discolored skin, scar, and bright blue eye.

"I've got problems of my own, problems that your father helped out somewhat with, but Simmons is trying," and here he rolled his eyes with a curled lip, but it didn't seem to stem from malice, "to help me out with. I have my own shit to get through, and can't worry about yours on top of it."

The illusion went back up, and Church curled his fists into his thighs.

"But you've already got someone looking out for you," Grif said, causing Church's eyes to flit back up to his. "Talk to Caboose, man, he cares about you and is ready to deal with all that baggage you've got."

Swallowing harshly, he brings up, "I don't want to bother Uncle Caboose with this."

"It wouldn't be a bother, not to him," Grif shook his head. "He loves you like you were his own kid, and maybe part of him wishes that were true, but he'd never put that on you."

Church couldn't fall back on any of his excuses when faced with the truth. 

"Every kid needs some sort of parent in their life," the other hero rose up from the table, walking towards his room. "And you've got a perfectly good one waiting to spoil you absolutely rotten. Give him a chance."

Holding back tears, he nods, only managing to say, "Yeah."

That seems to be enough for Grif, who says one last, "If you need anything, don't wake me up. Just turn the house inside out if you have to. Night kid."

"Night," he whispered into the dark room, the glow from the TV is far too white for him to be comfortable at all.

He got up from the abandoned table and went back to the couch, leaving the TV on because he didn't want to get up and turn it off.

And he tried to get comfortable on the couch, he brought his knees to his chest and rested his head against the pillow, but even that didn't comfort him.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to get a lick of sleep, he didn't even bother to take off his glasses. Didn't bother to change into nightwear. Church didn't even bother to try and find the bathroom to brush his teeth, although he knew for a fact that he would regret not doing so in the morning.

He just sat curled up in fetal position on his fellow hero's couch, staring miserably at the wall in front of him, not knowing what he even wanted in the first place.

Church  _ thought _ that he craved interaction outside of work- thought that all he needed to get out of his mood was to be in a house that had another person in it.

But he's here and he feels even more shitty than he did when he woke up. Part of him wants to blame Grif for making him feel this way, but the older hero had a point. Church wasn't his problem to deal with, and just because they worked in the same league, he had no real obligation to the teen.

If anything, perhaps he should thank the man for the wake-up call. Church resolved to talk to Uncle Caboose the next day, see if his offer of staying at his apartment was still up.

And he thought that that would be it, that after coming to that conclusion he'd be able to go to sleep finally.

But as soon as he closed his eyes, his vision was flooded with images of vans parked outside his gates and his house destroyed, priceless items gone forever.

He turned to face the plush cushions and tried his best to silence his thoughts.

Fuck, he couldn't do it, and the more he thought about that van the more the anger that he felt at the world started to grow and get pointed in a direction where he could unleash it without feeling guilty.

Snapping his eyes wide open, he uncurled himself and got off the couch, headed straight for his shoes and put them on.

Church didn't know how long it would take him to get from Bronze to Silver, but he had a mission to beat the shit out of some home invaders.

His hand was just about to turn the handle of the apartment door when Grif's voice caused him to pause, "You know, I could hear your teen angst from the room over."

Turning to look at the man, he saw that whatever illusion he had constantly on his face was gone, but that he was also grabbing the keys to his jeep.

"You'll never make it in time on your own," Grif explained, moving past Church to open the apartment door. "Yeah, I'm not an idiot, I could tell that you were thinking about your home."

"You'll help me?" Church asked, not sparing the apartment another glance.

"Sure, why not," Grif said, as the two of them made their way back down to the parking garage. "My sister burned down our first apartment when she was younger. I know what it's like to lose a home, so I'll help you get to yours before it gets fucked over."

"You have a very fucked up life, you know that, right?" Church said. "Like, if I've learned  _ anything _ at all today, is that you're five seconds away from being  _ the _ most fucked up person I know."

"That's just what makes me endearing to Simmons," Grif joked, leading Church to where the jeep was parked. "I think he likes the challenge."

"So can I safely assume that you're NEXT ability is illusions," Church asked, his mood having been lifted slightly enough that he could distract himself with lighthearted questions.

"Congrats, tell anyone and I'll kick your ass," Grif said as he started the car. "I think I've talked and revealed more shit about myself to you in one night than I have ever in my entire life. So let's just focus on your house problem now and forever."

Church really didn't question where Grif was taking him, trusting the man to not just lie to him openly about helping him out, but he did notice that they weren't heading towards the tunnel.

Instead, Grif pulled up at a mine entrance lit up by a bright red lantern.

"Is this...?" Church asked with eyes wide.

"After that whole bombing thing with the Zealot, Neon decided it was about time to build escape routes to different levels. This is now the fastest way to get to Silver," the older hero explained, pulling out a blindfold from his pocket. "Here, I'm not about to get my ass kicked by five different adults if word gets out that I let you into the Neon Level."

"I thought Neon was destroyed," Church blinked, recalling what Dylan had told them all not too long ago.

"I'm the king of liars, kid," Grif pointed at his blue eye as an example. "Lying is as easy as being an angsty little bitch is to you, now take the damn blindfold so I can get the fuck out of here."

"Thanks, even though you've been a dick this whole evening, you've helped me out, like, only a little bit," Church said, holding the blindfold in his hand. "I guess that's on me for pretty much inviting myself over, though."

"Hey, what can I say, there's gotta be some sort of Bastard-Orphan Solidarity on the team of the not quite as fucked-up screw-ups," Grif said. 

"Bastard-Orphan Solidarity," Church snorted, because yeah, that sounded about right.

Taking in a deep breath, he brought the blindfold up to his, taking off his glasses and slipping them in his pocket first, before he summoned the Alpha fragment.

As soon as he was sure that Alpha was fully formed, he ordered, "Take me to the Silver Level- take me home."

The next thing he knew, he was being scooped up into the arms of Alpha, just like his father used to do when he was much younger, and with the blindfold on he could almost imagine that it was actually his dad there holding him.

And then they were moving, Alpha speeding through the winding tunnels of the Neon Level, Church being unable to see a thing, but hearing the swirling of different sounds and scents- blaring music from clubs and crying children, alcohol in the air but also the smell of sweet bread being made- was more than enough for him to picture in his head what Neon must have looked like.

This goes on for a long time, but then he feels cool air brush upon his cheeks, and he knows that they've made it out of the Neon Level and where on their way to the mansion.

Reaching up to slip off his blindfold, he blinks up at the Alpha fragment, expecting him to have no emotion on his face, but even with blurry vision, he can see the slight smile the fragment sends his way.

Church doesn't know how to react to that, so he doesn't, and he doesn't bother to put on his glasses either. He just... enjoys the moment for what it was.

But it doesn't last long, and they're nearing the back entrance to the mansion. Slipping out of Alpha's hold, he looks away as the fragment is dismissed, slipping back on his circular frames.

The house looks empty, but he can't quite trust that whoever it was in that van wasn't a mastermind criminal who's hit so many houses in the past that it was easy as fuck to do now.

Instead, he inches quietly along the side of the house, peering around to see that sure enough the van is parked outside, and from what he could tell, nobody was in it.

Which meant that they were probably inside the house already,  _ shit. _

Moving backward slowly, and ducking out of sight of any of the many windows, he looks for the cellar entrance to the house, hoping to sneak in that way. But when he reaches it, he's frustrated to see that there's a lock on it.

Of all the times to forget the damned thing was locked, of course, it would be the one time that he needed to get into it.

Doing his best to think rationally, he summons Omega, the dark purple fragment and exact mimic of what he currently looked like sans his current clothes, wearing the signature jumpsuit of his duplicates.

"Break that lock for me, would you," he jerked his head towards the lock.

Omega did it without breaking eye contact with him, and after doing it, he spoke, "Why don't you let  _ me _ handle them? Let out your  _ anger _ on them in the form of me?"

Shaking his head, he was tempted to just outright dismiss the fragment.

"No thanks, I'm not in the mood to let you loose tonight," Church hissed.

"But you're not a hero right now," Omega tempted. "No one would have to know."

Well, that was stupid, the world already knew that he- Leonard Church the Third- was following in the 'footsteps' of his hero aunt.

But instead of saying that, he tries his best to emulate his father as he says, "Perhaps not, but  _ I _ would know."

And with that having been said, he dismissed the fragment who had the nerve to growl at him.

"But," he added with a devious smirk on his face now that Omega was gone. "That doesn't mean I can't mess around with them first."

Now that his way into the building was secured, he opened the cellar doors as he thought up his plan to stop the robbers while releasing his pent up energy.

He would certainly have to thank Grif later, if he didn't have all those old movies, perhaps Church wouldn't have come up with the  _ greatest _ attack plan that he could muster up.

* * *

So far this mansion was looking as thought it'd be a colossal waste of time, at least in the eyes of Alfred as he pointed his flashlight down at the ground in the hopes that there'd be stacks of bills lying about.

This blows, he would have thought that a place as rich as this would have had priceless  _ things _ just laying around! But so far all he managed to find was empty chip bags.

Moving onto the next room, he heard the sound of footsteps above him coupled with childish laughter.

Spinning around he pointed his flashlight up the stairs, his eyes wide at the thought that there was someone inside the house beside his buddies and him.

"Hey, Quinton, I thought you said that no one was here," he hissed towards his partner.

"What are you talking about," the other man turned to glare at him. "It's just us and Jordan."

"I heard a kid laughing," he swore. "And little footsteps- oh fuck, dude is this place haunted?"

"Don't make me laugh, Alfred," Quinton rolled his eyes. "Just because this place is empty doesn't mean it's haunted. There's  _ gotta _ be some sort of safe somewhere if we keep looking."

Once again he heard creaking sounds fill the house, and he gripped his flashlight tighter. 

"Ok," Quinton admitted, his eyes wide as well. "I heard that too."

"See?!" he hissed. "We gotta get the hell out of her-"

A scream filled the house and the both of them turned towards their heads where it had originated from.

"Jordan!" Quinton raced after the scream, and Alfred, not wanting to be left behind, followed right after him.

To their shock, they found Jordan knocked unconscious and  _ tied _ up in a spider's web of rope and fishing rod string.

"What the hell," Quinton said, pointing his flashlight up at their unconscious friend.

"Are you here to play with us too?" two voices spoke up from behind them.

Yelping, Alfred turned around and blanched at the two fraternal twins staring at them. The kids had a dead stare on their faces, wearing matching Fauntleroy outfits, holding each other's hand.

Quinton beside him started shaking, likely just as freaked out at the display as he was.

The kids continued to stare at them, taking a synchronized and mirrored step forward, asking again, "Do you want to play?"

"No way in fucking hell," Quinton stammered out, running past Jordan and up the stairs of the house while Alfred was frozen in place.

From his place, he was able to see Quinton pause at the very top of the landing, shocked as a dark substance started to drip onto his face.

Looking up, his eyes were blown wide as a flood of blood poured down from the ceiling.

Screaming Quinton scrambled backward, and Alfred heard the sound of marbles rolling at the same time as he heard his partner come crashing down the staircase.

He was right, he was so goddamn right, this place was fucking  _ haunted- _

Suddenly the twins were right in front of him, reaching out opposite hands to grab him, and this caused him to gain movement back in all of his limbs, so he hightailed it back to the foray, yelling as loudly as he could.

But as he entered the doorway at lightning-fast speed, he was knocked backward as an invisible force slammed right into him.

Landing painfully on the floor, he groaned loudly as his vision was impaired from the blow to his head. Alfred could only just barely make out the figure standing in front of him, looking up to see a manically grinning face holding a shovel.

"Night-night, asshole!" the figure said, and that was the last thing that he heard before he was wacked aside the head with the shovel.

Laughing, Church surveyed the chaos that he had raised.

Moving over to Eta and Iota, he gave them a bright smile as he thanked them, "That was fucking awesome, guys! Take five, you guys deserve it!"

Normally the two twins wouldn't have any sort of emotional reaction, but today they giggled at his joy and dissipated with mischievous smiles of their own.

"And Gamma, come over here," he yelled out to the light blue fragment who appeared around the corner. "You were perfect! Thanks for all the illusions to cover my ass from placing down the traps."

"It was a funny joke," the fragment admitted. "You should play jokes more often."

"Fuck yeah I will if it gets you guys to loosen up a bit," he still couldn't believe that his plan worked. "If Grif's the king of lies then you're sure as fuck the prince with this performance that you pulled."

Gamma didn't respond to the comment, but his fragment avatar did pop up a little digital crown.

Dismissing Gamma too, Church huffed out a laugh as he collapsed onto the ground, picking up one of the marbles that he used to trip one of the bastards.

"I guess all that's left to do is call the police," he reasoned as soon as he had calmed down.

He reached into his pocket to grab his phone but came up empty.

It was then he remembered that he had left everything at Grif's house.

"Goddammit, I'm gonna have to use the fucking landline!" he burst out, and for a second he wanted to collapse from how tiring this day had been.

Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous.

* * *

It didn't take long for the police to arrive and handcuff the loser criminals. He had just finished giving one of the officers his report on what had happened when he saw one of the other officers staring at him.

Seeing that he had finished giving his recount, the officer came over and remarked, "I'm surprised you didn't call in these as an arrest."

"Uh, what are you talking about," Church looked the man up and down, not at all impressed with the smattering of freckles on his face or the clearly dyed blond hair that the man was sporting- hell Church could see that the roots were starting to come in. "I literally  _ just _ did, otherwise you wouldn't be here."

Shaking his head, the officer elaborated, "I mean to FreelancerTV. This could have given Blue Team a six-hundred point boost."

"Oh," Church remarked with distaste. "You meant with the Second League. Yeah, thanks but no thanks. I didn't do this for the points."

"Still, it could have helped," the officer slipped his thumbs into his pants pockets. "It would have actually given you the lead for King of Heroes."

"Well, unlike others, I don't care about points or the title of King," Church rolled his eyes.

The officer blinked at his statement, before relaxing into a much more open position, "That's certainly not something Carolina would have done."

Bristling at the mention of his aunt, Church snapped, "And what would you know about her?"

"Considering that I used to be in the First League as her? A lot," the officer revealed.

Now that shocked Church, and he looked at the man once again, trying to see if he could figure out which hero he had been. 

"My name’s David," the officer extended his hand. "But you might know me better as Agent Washington."

With that little bit of info, he actually felt comfortable enough to shake the other man’s hand, "Church. You were one of the higher ranking First League heroes."

"Yeah, I know," Washington said. "Hey, I don't mean to bother you about all this, but I actually approached you for a different reason entirely."

"For what?" he couldn't quite get a good read on the former hero.

The man pulled out an envelope and handed it over to the teen.

"I was gonna deliver that to her in person, but I wouldn't know exactly when she'd be home and all," Washington nervously explained. "A friend of ours recently died- another First League hero actually- that letter is just details about the funeral service."

That was news to him, "A First League hero died?"

Washington seemed hesitant to answer, but he reluctantly said, "Yeah, we're keeping it on the down-low, for obvious reasons, but... it's looking like a murder case the more and more I look at it."

Someone in the First League was  _ murdered. _ That would have certainly shocked the public to its core, maybe would have shaken their belief in heroes too.

"But, in any case, a friend of ours is dead- hero or no," Washington said. "I got to go now, so if you could deliver that to her, it'd be really appreciated."

Church didn't respond, simply looking down at the envelope.

"Take care of yourself kid," Washington bid farewell as he departed.

"Yeah," he folded the envelope up and slid it into his pocket. A lump started to form in the back of his throat. "Sure."

* * *

The next day he didn't waste any time going up to Uncle Caboose and asking, "Can I stay at your place? Just for a little while, you see, my house got broken int-UGH-"

He wasn't able to finish his statement before Uncle Caboose had grappled him into a bear hug, lifting the teen right off his feet saying, "Of course you can! Oh, we are going to have so much fun, the guest room is all ready for you- and OH! We can take Freckles on a walk together!"

"Getting- kind of hard- to  _ breathe, _ Uncle Caboose," he gasped out. 

"Oh, right!" Uncle Caboose let him down and just smiled all bright at him. "I do not think you have seen it yet, but I decorated your room with dinosaur prints and movie posters, and every time I find a toy at the store I think you would like I put it in their so you have like,  _ so _ many gifts to play with."

Blinking, he rubbed his right arm, and bashfully looked to the side, "You didn't have to buy me anything, Unc."

"I know," Uncle Caboose said, and Church looked up at him with wide eyes. "I do it because I want to see you happy. Not because I think I have to."

Even though he started to get a lump in his throat, he managed to swallow it down to say as sincerely as possible, "Thank you."

"You do not have to thank me for something as silly as that," Uncle Caboose reassured. "Now, let us get to our training! Then we can spend the day doing things that are  _ actually _ fun!"

"Right," he put his hands in his pockets before brushing up against a piece of paper. "Oh, wait, I'll be right over, I have to do something first."

Walking away from his uncle, he approached the far end of the room where the object of his thoughts was.

Then, without any guilt, he pulled out the envelope,  _ ripped _ it in half, and threw it away.

"Hey, you left this at my house," Grif appeared at his side, holding out his duffel bag, causing his heart to stop before starting again when he recognized who it was.

"Oh thank god," Church pulled it close to his chest. "Do you know what I had to do last night to call the cops? I had to use a fucking  _ landline, _ like all of a sudden I was your poor ass."

"How horrible that must have been for you," Grif remarked before both of his amber eyes glanced towards the trash. "I saw that you just talked to Caboose, I'm assuming that went well."

"Yeah, it did," he grew nervous the longer Grif stared at the trash can. "We should probably get to our training regiments."

"Ah, yes, my favorite part of the day,  _ nap time," _ the older hero turned away from the trash can and started heading towards the bench that he had commandeered as his own. "See you later, suck it Blue, yadda yadda."

"Yeah, fuck off Red," he said on principle. Heading back toward Uncle Caboose, he zipped open the duffel bag so that he could get his phone and charge the damn thing probably too when an unexpected sight greeted his eyes.

Pulling out one of the DVD cases, he was shocked to find that a few of the movies that he had been looking at were shoved into the duffel bag.

Looking back over towards Grif, he found the hero napping like normal.

Zipping the bag close, he decided to not say anything about the gesture, instead, he raced over to Uncle Caboose saying, "Hey Unc, maybe we could watch a few movies? I know just the perfect one to watch..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These past few days I have been scrambling to read all my past notes so that I wouldn't mess anything up since it's been so long, but just in case so sorry if I flubbed any details that I've previously established!
> 
> In any case, this chapter I wanted to tie up some loose ends involving Caboose, establish some of Church's problems (and to point that him and Carolina are a lot similar than they think revolving around their own personal fears of growing close to people again), and to start talking more about the Bronze/Neon Level and Grif's past (more on that in his character chapter of course)!
> 
> Next chapter is Simmons', and let's just say it's double the trouble for everyone involved.
> 
> If you'd like to find me you can contact me at either of my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscribes (writing)!


End file.
